


Jump Then Fall

by BillieJoeArmstrong



Series: Cross-posted on tumblr [1]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, One Shot, tw for mentions of abuse and self-harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 13:56:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18639460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BillieJoeArmstrong/pseuds/BillieJoeArmstrong
Summary: Michael couldn’t stay mad at Alex. Not ever.Set mid-season.





	Jump Then Fall

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on a mission to re-post some of my short ficlets and prompt-fills that have been buried on my tumblr (@ aliencowboys) this is the first of those.
> 
> I think I wrote this one around the time of 1x06. Title is a Taylor Swift song.

Michael couldn’t stay mad at Alex. Not ever. No matter what the other man did. Even after that night in the drive-in, when Alex had called him a criminal and stormed off. The conversation circulated in Michael’s head, haunting his dreams. But he still couldn’t stay angry. He would always forgive Alex.

Aggressive knocking on his trailer door in the middle of the night woke Michael from an unpleasant sleep. When he opened the door to reveal Alex, on the verge of tears, dusty and downtrodden, Michael knew whatever the airman requested, he would give him.

Which is why Michael was driving through the desert at 2am, with Alex in the passenger seat, heading as far away from anywhere as he could.

“Can we go for a drive?” Alex had said, voice weary and strained, and Michael couldn’t turn him down.

So there they were, soft music playing from the radio, driving in silence. Michael kept looking across to Alex, who was leaning against the window, staring out at nothing in particular.

The Roswell scenery blurred past in shades of black and grey in the darkness. Michael didn’t need to ask where they were going, he knew the answer was anywhere, or nowhere at all.

They used to talk about doing this. When they were teenagers, before either of them owned a car. They would sit together on rough nights, when everything was falling apart, holding each other and talking about getting away.

“How far do you wanna go?” Michael asked, turning the radio down further. Alex shrugged in reply.

“As far as we can.” He murmured, lifting his head briefly to rest it on his elbow. As he did, the sleeve of his plaid shirt fell and Michael could see fresh bruises that looked like the grip of a man’s hand standing out over old scars that never really faded.

Michael grit his teeth, but said nothing. He slowed his driving, and parked on the side of the road.

“Alex.” Michael said gently. Alex scrunched his face up, body turned entirely away from the driver’s side.

“I don’t know how to make him stop.” Alex’s voice is barely audible over the engine, left on to keep the heaters running. “I thought he’d stop by now. I’m trying to be the son he wants. I’m not a dumb teenager anymore. I should be man enough to make him stop.”

Michael didn’t know what to say. His words couldn’t fix anything when they were young, he certainly couldn’t find the right thing to say now. Instead, he just shifted across to the passenger side, sitting himself on the edge of Alex’s seat. He wrapped his arms around Alex’s shoulder’s and just held him.

Alex turned in Michael’s grip and tucked his head under the alien’s neck. Michael could sense rage and despair coming from the other man in waves. He held Alex in silence for a long time, not saying anything as he felt hot tears dampen his shirt.

As he felt Alex slowly calming down, Michael began reciting a memory.

“You remember that time in high school, when you convinced me to do that dunk-tank thing on spirit day?” Michael asked. When he felt Alex nod against his chest, he continued. “and I was wearing that Panic! At The Disco t-shirt and those stupid shorts?”

“The tie-dye ones with the aliens.” Alex mumbled into Michael’s chest, “yeah, I remember. You looked ridiculous.”

“Maybe so, but I was doing  _so well_. Nobody had hit the target. I was dry as the Sahara. Until you walked up, football in hand and that evil grin on your face.” Michael chuckled softly, “I mocked you for your bad aim.”

Alex lifted his head from Michael’s chest, nose-running and eyes red with tears. “It made you look like even more of an idiot when I landed you in the pool.”

“That it did.” Michael agreed with a smile. He would never admit it, but he had used his powers to make sure Alex’s throw would his the target, knowing how it would make the boy smile. “And then afterward, when we made out in the locker room while I got dry. You didn’t think I looked so ridiculous then.”

Alex hummed quietly and leaned the side of his head against Michael’s shoulder. “That was fun too,” he said, a small smile gracing his features.

“Now there’s that face I love.” Michael squeezed Alex to his chest with both hands. They fell silent again, but this time it was pleasant and comforting. Eventually Alex fell asleep against Michael’s chest, expression calm and content. 

“No matter what happens, with your dad, the world, us, I’ll always do my best to get that smile back on your face,” Michael confessed, the stars and dusty road his only witnesses. “I’ll be here. To hold you and tell you stupid jokes, do whatever it takes to make you smile.”


End file.
